Shine Bright
by MakinaCZ
Summary: "For the first forty days, a child is given dreams of previous lives. Journeys, winding paths, a hundred small lessons- and then the past is erased."
1. There is a begining

**SHINE BRIGHT**

**~x~**

"_For the first forty days, a child is given dreams of previous lives._

_Journeys, winding paths, a hundred small lessons-_

_and then the past is erased."_

**~x~**

It started as a dream at first- or a distant memory that seemed to awaken. A feeling one had when he was sure that the thing he had forgotten was very, very important.

She had dismissed it at first- there was nothing that would logically cause all this, so she gave it no thought.

The feeling grew stronger. And suddenly, Seraphina couldn't just ignore it- it was like an irritating insect that buzzed around her head, or an itch that was deep inside her soul, and couldn't be scratched-

And when she started actually thing about _why_, she nearly smacked herself in irritation.

It was summoning.

One she had been ignoring for _weeks_.

Mother Nature winced at that realization, and rubbed her eyes tiredly, shoulders tensing. There was only one person, only one being, that had the power to call upon her in such way.

One being that could call upon everyone in such way.

One who was connected to all.

~x~

That is why Seraphina found herself standing here, on a place known only those who knows where it is- which currently was her alone.

And looking up at the faintly growing tree- Tree of Life- she felt a shiver coming up her spine, as always when she had come face to face with aspect of the Goddess.

"Mother," she gave bow, another shiver racking up her frame "I apologize for my tardiness. I hadn't realized that you... called."

She wasn't afraid. She could never be afraid of Gaia, for she had only showed Seraphina kindness and empathy, when she saved her life, making her an avatar for her kingdom.

But Gaia was a goddess- and the powers that the Earth herself possessed, were exactly the same that made Seraphina Mother Nature, and being so close to them made her feel every inch of her body more clearly than ever.

Gaia greeted her as usual- leaves disturbed by a gentle breeze, carrying a nearly silent whispers along the way, while the air around them turned pleasantly warm. Seraphina let out a shaky breath. She knew that the almighty being wouldn't be angry, but she couldn't help but always doubt...

"Mother... Gaia," she looked up. Gazing at the gnarled yet ornate tree bark, she could almost see an outline of a figure- which was very unusual for the goddess.

That wasn't good.

"...You are worried," she murmured, hands tightening to fists. So not good. "Mother, what is happening?"

Seraphina find out a long time ago that Gaia's conection to world- to the space, to the actual _time_- was far more complicated than a simple mortal could understand. Something Seraphina could never even hope to understand.

The wind stilled for a moment, and there was a deadly silence- and that scared her way more than anything else. The usually clear pond that bubbled quietly in front of the Tree's great roots stilled as well, and his reflection turned dark- and Seraphina kneeled by it, looking inside, curious what Gaia wants her to know. When a reflection of a dark cloaked figure appeared on the surface and pair of wickedly red eyes glared at her from under the hood, she instantly recoiled.

"Wizard!" Seraphina spat, disgust and mistrust clear in her voice. Nothing could stop her from glaring up at the tree, small amount of hurt in her eyes. "Mother, why this...?" she glared back on the pond "Why show me one of _them_..?"

She snarled and went to disrupt the surface of the pond- but as soon as her hand touched the water, she gasped and felt herself being plunged to darkness.

Instantly, she felt sick and terrified- her vision swam and her limbs felt weak- there was no end, and there was no beginning, she felt small and defenceless, just a mere insect against the whole world-

She cried out and jumped away from the pond, actually attempting to scramble away from it in fear. She could feel herself shaking. And yet the surface was as clear as ever, innocent and harmless.

"..W-what was that..?" she found herself whispering, golden eyes wide and terrified.

"_One simple look into the soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle."_

That only made her other sentence die on her lips, as she stared up at Gaia, who actually took on a _physical form_ and _spoke to her_.

She was beautiful. There was no other way Seraphina could think something different. The great goddess was actually nearly stepping out of the tree- though her hair (could that be called hair?) neatly disappeared in the leaves, while the bottom half of her body seemed to be the roots, hidden underground. Great green eyes gazed at her from the smooth, angelic looking face.

"...It's _vile_," she finally said shakily, gazing at Gaia "_Horrible_. Even more than-"

"_The Nightmare King?"_ Gaia whispered softly, her expression soothing _"Yes. While the former general still have part of... humanity inside him,"_ two large wooden hands were gently placed on the ground before the roots _"This wizard... got rid of his."_

"_By splitting his soul."_

Any scowl or protest that might start form was quickly gone, as Seraphina paled, and was just left staring at the goddess.

"...Surely not..?!"

Gaia hummed and said nothing more. Her large hands were gently caressing the green grass, and smile started to play on her lips as under her care, small, almost frail looking flower started to grow, its bud tiny, yet glowing light blue. Seraphina huffed a little, small irritation entering her eyes, but watched the happening curiously.

"_...Tom Marvolo Riddle, if he is not stopped,"_ the goddess said softly, gently beckoning the plant to grow _"Might destroys us all."_

Seraphina wanted to protest yet again- what could one man do? But her memories of her father, and what became of him made her bit her lip. One man could do a lot. Man that was worse than the Nightmare King?

She didn't want to imagine that scenario.

"...Mother," she looked at Gaia "What do we need to do? What do _I_ need to do?"

"_We need to fight the darkness,"_ the being hummed _"And for that we need light."_ The flower slowly blossomed, opening her soft petals, and releasing what appeared a small yet brightly glowing spark, or a tiny ball of light, which the goddess gently caught on her palm. She offered the light to Seraphina, who took it gently.

It was a soul but-

No.

No way.

"Him?!" she gasped, cradling the light closer to her and gazing up at the being with wide eyes "But I thought he returned to the stars..?!" she was silent for a second before nearly gasping again "You want him to- to _return_? As _a human_?"

"Mother! You can't trap light in physical form!"

"_Not trapped,"_ she whispered, looking at Seraphina gently _"But freed." _She started slowly disappearing back into the tree _"The wind will guide you, child."_

"_Follow it."_

And Seraphina was left alone at the bottom of the great tree.

~x~

As it was, Seraphina thought it was a very bad idea. The feeling only intensified, when the wind showed her a concealed house- a secret hiding place, apparently charmed to be so by a very young, _wizarding_, couple. The way they acted, being happy despite the obvious darkness that was enveloping them, made the woman smile and frown at the same time, creating a very interesting grimace on her face. So much hope; so thick and uplifting. Seraphina didn't even have to be any sort of Guardian to feel it.

War was ripping the couple's society apart- and yet they didn't even struggle to find their own little light in these times of darkness. Seraphina sighed and looked at the sky. Did Gaia intended for one of them being possessed? She cradled the bright shining soul closer, as if the mere presence would sooth her troubled mind. And perhaps it could.

Yet possession really wasn't the Goddess' thing. She treasured every one of her 'children'- Seraphina knew that Tom Riddle's made Gaia's heart ache quite a bit- and wouldn't do anything that would harm their spirits. But the dark wizard broke the way of life and death, and threatened others- the whole world in fact. And that was what made Seraphina to go along with Gaia's orders. She didn't wish for another monster to rise.

Mother Nature didn't know what happened to the families of Constellations. Did someone survive the genocide? Or were the last people of Golden Age all trapped on this planet, on Earth?

She caressed the little light again, protectiveness rising in her heart. She remembered him. The bodyguard, The Protector of The Heir, and few centuries back, The Guardian of The Moon.

Nightlight Shine Bright. One of the many mysterious lights given a physical form- even thought it wasn't physical in flesh and bones sense- more like in hardened shimmers and starlight. When Seraphina was a child, she was awed by his presence by the Lunaoffs' side- how happy and content he looked, looking after the two year old Lunar Lunaoff, heir to the Constellations throne.

Only now, after growing up and having billion years of experience, she could marvel at Nightlight ability to forgive. Because as she said: Lights shouldn't be trapped in physical form- and yet the lead generals and scientist of the Golden Age did so, taking Light after Light from the skies, and giving them shape, letting them swear their loyalties to the Constellations and then training them to fight against darkness- Fearlings.

Nightlight must have been a failure- something that just couldn't be real in Seraphina's mind, because 'failure' and 'Nightlight' never seemed to belong in one sentence. And yet it must have been so. Why else the boy was appointed as a mere _babysitter _of a snotty prince, and not as a soldier in the war?

And now, instead of returning to the stars, he was to be _enslaved _and _used_ again.

Slipping through the wards, she just walked into the house, inspecting everything carefully. She did not like the magical kind- not since the Atlanteans tried to put her in the shackles, trying to use her powers for their gain.

She showed them how much of a bad idea it was.

So far however, this couple didn't make her feel much of a disgust. Sure, the male was a bit cocky- but which man wasn't – but the female...

She was intelligent. And her heart seemed in the right place. And now that Seraphina was so close to her, she finaly understood what Gaia intended her to do.

The female was expecting. This made Seraphina's face soften a little and then her eyes widen.

_No._

This was a very, very bad idea.

"She's gone mad," Seraphina whispered in almost awe, almost shock. The Goddess intended for Nightlight to be completely _reborn_? As a _wizard_?!

That couldn't be! The process would wipe everything that made him who he is!

And yet...

Seraphina sighed heavily, and walked closer to the woman. Tom Marvolo Riddle couldn't be allowed to run free. And if Gaia thought that doing this- letting Nightlight reborn as a human, a wizard, would help- then Seraphina really couldn't do anything else.

"...I wish there is other way," she whispered gently to the little light, lowering it carefully to the woman's abdomen "But as you obeyed to your Tsar... I must obey to my Goddess."

"I do not know if you ever meet us, other immortals as Nightlight- or if you become another child between countless others." She sighed.

"If the other Guardians knew what is about to happen, they would try to skewer me... and your Tsar would probably do the same."

She pressed the light carefully into the woman's body.

~x~

Something has changed. He could remember, kinda, his time in non-being, and even before that, despite the memories being hazy and confusing. And yet, his experience at being, at existing, has never been as strange and... alien, as now.

He felt... _warm_.

That itself was a new experience. And as much as he tried open his eyes he couldn't- he was locked in the darkness, and yet he wasn't afraid. He even felt safe- safer than before.

He felt tired. Was he asleep? But he never sleeps...

Everything was so _different_.

However in his sluggish and tired state, Nightlight didn't really care about inspecting it further, and so he just wiggled a little to get more comfortable- though even something about his body seemed off- and let himself dream.

~x~

Lily Potter was getting very concerned, as she read her book while her newborn son was 'resting' in his cot. He was so silent. And when he cried, he only whimpered a bit- and only moonlight seemed to calm him down.

Sighing, she put the book away, when she could hear another round of whimpers start. She couldn't focus on it anyway, and her little gem, her Harry, needed her. Getting up from the couch, she silently walked over, sad smile crossing her lips when she saw him with his eyes clenched shut and tiny hands curled into tight fists, his small chest heaving with effort to keep his anguish in.

"Oh sweetie," she whispered softly, leaning down to caress his hair softly, making him open his emerald eyes- that seemed same and yet so different from her own- and release few tears. Her smile widened and she shushed him softly, brushing those tears away with her thumb.

"You are my little brave lion, aren't you?" she cooed gently, carefully picking him up and cradling him softly. He whimpered again and she kissed his forehead to calm him down, humming a soft tune to ease his fears.

"My precious little one," Lily whispered, her smile widening even more when she saw his look turn more curious and confused "My bright light..." she nuzzled him carefully.

"I love you so much, Harry... My son."

He seemed to stare at her as if he never saw her before, but Lily didn't think much of it. He seemed calmer, now that he was in her arms.

"I promise you," she looked into his eyes "that I will always protect you."

"No matter what."

~x~

Exactly year and half after that, she determinedly kept this promise at the front of her mind, as she stared point black into the tip of dark Lord Voldemort's wand.

Her last thought before the killing curse struck her was an apology to her son.

And hope that he may forgive her.


	2. And one couldn't dream

Library.

For many just a place that you go to when there is no option left- as the books here are usually filled with that particular information you just long to know, and the television isn't able to give it. Their pages yellowed with age, dusted from being forgotten-

Perfect place for someone who wanted to hide, to disappear.

That is not to say, that Harry didn't like books. Quite the opposite; he loved them. He loved the way words curled on the pages, describing this or that, and more often than not, the small boy would just close his eyes and daydream for a moment.

It wasn't really knowledge he was seeking- though it was in a way. Curled on an old plush armchair, while gently turning page after page from a book that seemed too big for his small hands. Green eyes alight with wonder, gentle smile curling on his lips, as he reads about old legends, adventurous stories and magical fairy tales- far more interested than any seven years old.

It wasn't as if he disliked learning new things. But for some reason, imagination and fun seemed far important than sitting whole day in school. Especially when the atmosphere in school was so much different from the comfortable air in the library.

There was nothing good to greet him at school. Friends were scarce- more like, non-existent- and his classmates were just... _cruel_.

For some reason, every time Harry thought about the treatment they put him through, he felt deep sadness enveloping his heart. Like he had expected better of them.

Which was just foolish.

Though his life had gotten slightly better ever since he was diagnosed with selective mutism two years ago.

And though young, Harry was slightly irritated that they noticed only two years ago that he wasn't one for speaking. Not that he was particularly happy with their... _diagnosis_ either.

He wasn't...ill.

There was nothing wrong with him.

Harry just felt that speaking wasn't that much of a big deal. He wasn't exactly sure, but he just felt that one shouldn't spew meaningless words- that the tongue should be used when it's truly needed, and when it's important.

Sadly, his relatives...

The small boy sighed, closing the _Fairy Tales_ by Hans Christian Andersen (Harry liked his stories- favourite so far being one named _Ole Lukøje_, tale about a kind being called Sandman. For some reason, it just called to him.) and hopped down from his perch.

It was getting late anyway.

Harry's family was... well, they couldn't be called family, not really. Because who would seriously call someone that clearly hates his guts a family? But his relatives, they were... _normal._

At least, that's what they tried to be (secretly, Harry thought that there wasn't anyone that strived for normalcy so much it was getting abnormal as his relatives, but that was just his opinion of course).

Harry was, sadly, as unnatural and abnormal as he could be in their eyes- a feeling which only intensified when the services started to keep a close eye on his home-life, trying to find a cause for his muteness- and it seemed his mere presence just made them despise him more and more.

Knowledge that only made the deep sadness in his heart deepen even more. The boy couldn't even remember the nights, when he had spent hours in darkness letting his grief out. And each tear seemed to be exchanged by another two.

That was when he started collecting these drops of anguish.

By any standards, it was very strange. But every tear seemed like a waste, and something just told Harry- guided his hand- to just catch every and each of them. And instead of smearing on his skin, they stayed there like a luminescent pearl, until he found container to hold them.

Sighing again, he looked at the book in his hands with slight longing. He wasn't allowed to bring any books home, or own any books. His relatives would never pay any money for a library card- or pay anything for that matter (a fact that was proven when his Uncle refused among all of his screeches to pay for a treatment that 'should' help Harry with his muteness. Something that made Harry feel both glad and worthless) He traced the slightly damaged cover with his hand.

Sandman.

Harry wasn't exactly sure what was so fascinating about old legends, but there was something- deep inside, wondrous and ancient- that just made him treasure these small stories.

And Harry wondered:

_Was he really only a fairy tale?_

Because, even if it was happening only in his mind- maybe he was clearly and everything was product of his madness- but every evening, every night-

The starry sky was alight by glowing golden streams of magical sand.

Harry didn't sleep- he never could, no matter how exhausted the day has been, no matter how comfortable the bed was- and all he could do was to stare at the dark corners of his attic room, littered with cracked paint and spider-webs.

And maybe that's was the only reason he was able to see it.

It just came and went every night, curling in elegant shapes at it flew down, reaching each and every child through a solid walls and window panes, probably- surely- bringing the small ones sweet dreams and undisturbed sleep.

Not that Harry was able to enjoy that.

If the streams had minds of their own, the boy was sure they were as confused and dismayed as he was. But even though they didn't bring what they were supposed to, their contact still seemed to fill that hollow part in his chest somewhat, and conjure a smile on his face.

He felt like greeting an old friend- one that he hadn't known he had, or missed.

And maybe it was his imagination, when he saw a small man from gold floating atop a cloud of dreamsand (somehow the name fit), flying over the city.

But it only made the smile widen to a grin- and for some mysterious, unexplainable reason, it made him let out a near silent, yet clear laugh.

Free and mischievous, light as the mist that shimmered in the morning sun.

~x~

And maybe, just maybe, there was more to one Harry James Potter, an orphaned child of two drunkards, with an ugly scar on his forehead from the car accident that took his parents' lives, when instead of jumping to hide behind an old garbage can while he was running away from his cousin's merciless gang, he found himself on the roof of the dining hall, confused and scared out of his wits.

Because no matter what everyone said- no matter the blame, and the names he has been called, or the screaming that met him at home-

Harry _flew_.

And he hadn't imagined it either.

How could he?

Especially if his body glowed with bright silvery light, while in the air?


End file.
